


Working For It

by Ceris_Malfoy



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: AU!IDW, BAMF!Starscream, Decepticon politics aren't average, M/M, alternate methods of recruiting, mentions of creepy!stalker!Shockwave, past-Pleasure-bot!Starscream, tired!Megatron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 06:25:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/695217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceris_Malfoy/pseuds/Ceris_Malfoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One doesn’t just become the Second in Command of the Decepticons; same with the position of Air Commander. One has to work for that distinction. Some just work differently than others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Working For It

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally supposed to be a response to a challenge issued by a Transformers community on DeviantArt. The challenge acknowledged that the common fan-base believed that Starscream earned his position by climbing through the ranks. The challenge asked us to come up with another way that Starscream could have earned those positions. I never did manage to finish this in time for the challenge, so I had fun changing a few things that wouldn't have worked otherwise. 
> 
> Enjoy!

When Megatron retired to his quarters, it was with the overwhelming sense that he was completely screwed. Exhausted didn’t quite cover exactly how tired he was, how ready he was to just surrender and give up on his plans for Cybertron and the universe afterwards. The war he’d so painstakingly crafted out of others’ miseries and petty squabbles was in the process of blowing up in his face, and he didn’t quite know how to stop it. It didn’t help matters that his lieutenants were all fragging morons.

His Third was a sycophantic yes-mech, his Second was one step away from being executed for sheer stupidity, his Air Commander was just barely tolerable, and his CSO was …creepy.

_Really_ creepy.

Creepy enough that Megatron had the entire corridor before his quarters booby-trapped to the pit and back. The term ‘overkill’ could clearly be applied to both the quantity and the mortality of those traps, which was why he nearly shot the seeker sitting carelessly behind his desk the second he saw him. It was only familiarity with this particular seeker that stilled his hand. He sighed. Starscream was a pleasure-bot he’d run into during his days in the arena; he’d liked the snarky seeker’s no-nonsense behaviors and cruel sense of humor so much he’d bought the seeker’s contract off of Lockdown as soon as he had managed to gather the funds to pay the rather outrageous price.

“What are you doing here?” he asked wearily, not really surprised that the seeker had managed to get through his traps – Starscream was irritatingly hard to pin down for very long regardless of what one used, and he knew better than to think that the ability to get _out_ didn’t bleed over into the ability to get _in_. Still, the last time he’d seen the seeker was just before he’d declared war on the Autobots by assassinating most of the Senate and Sentinal Prime some two or three vorns ago.

The seeker looked up from the data-pad he was reading, irritated and angry. “Your Air Commander’s a fragging moron,” the seeker said by way of answer, which really wasn’t an answer at all.

Megatron snorted, not thinking twice about turning his back to the seeker as he went over to his energon stash to get a cube of high-grade, brow-ridge twitching when he noticed that Starscream had apparently already helped himself to a cube or two. “You think I don’t know that?” he muttered. Louder, “That didn’t answer my question, seeker. What are you doing here?”

Starscream smiled at him, and it wasn’t a friendly smile by any stretch of the imagination. He was angry, and in one corner of his processor Megatron was aware of the desire to just curl into a tiny ball on his berth and cry. _Nothing_ was going right, and when the one figure that was guaranteed to relax him – in one way or another – finally bothered to show up, he was angry. Megatron didn’t know which of the gods he had torqued off, but he wished they would just put him out of his misery already. Instead of acting on this desire, however, he took a long pull from his high grade and waited for the tirade that was sure to come.

“You bought my contract, remember?” The seeker’s smile grew wide enough to show off those disturbing denta of his – multiple rows of serrated edges that reminded the Tyrant of a Sharkticon’s denta. “Where else would I be?”

Megatron shot the seeker an irritated glare. “If I had wanted you here I would have sent for you long ago. What possible use could I have for a pleasure-bot in the midst of war?”

The seeker snorted, tossing down the data-pad and leaning back in the too-large chair. “Is that what you’re calling it? A war? _Please_ , Megatron. I may be a pleasure-bot, but I wasn’t sparked yesterday. This is little more than a rebellion, and your so-called soldiers are little more than thugs with a particularly strong sadistic streak. _War_. Bah!”

Starscream stood up and walked around the desk, pausing just before the front edge. He smiled again, cold and cruel and endlessly angry. “Now, admittedly it took me awhile to decide how I felt about you buying my contract, ensuring that no one would pick me up or take me on without your express permission, and then up and abandoning me without so much as a thought as to how I would be able to get enough energon for myself, let alone my brothers who were, if you recall, recovering from extreme regenerative surgery after their stupid afts torqued off the wrong mechs and thus unable to do much of anything to support themselves.”

Megatron winced. Yeah, he could see why the seeker might be a little angry. He hadn’t even considered what just picking up and leaving would do to the seeker, or his brothers. To be completely honest, until the seeker showed up in his rooms and shoved it in his face, he hadn’t even really cared either. “So how _did_ you survive?” he queried, curious in spite himself. Kaon had become rather … unstable in the past several vorns, and that was a long time to survive unable to work for energon.

Starscream lost his smile and simply stared at him. The seeker’s optics burned with the force of his anger. For a single, brief moment in time, Megatron saw not just anger, but out-right hatred. It shook him. “By any means I deemed necessary,” the seeker finally said, tone dark and promising. It was the only warning he would ever receive from the seeker. Megatron didn’t pay it any mind then, however, because the seeker was already leaving, all fluid movements and predatory grace.

He only remembered the threat when the next time he summoned his Air Commander to make his displeasure known over a few of the idiot’s decisions, and was greeted not by Venture and his trine, but Starscream and his. All three held their wings at a proud angle, and all three were splattered with fresh energon. In the purple brother’s hands were his Air Commander’s head and a spark-chamber he could only assume to belong to the same mech. In the blue brother’s hands was the helm of his Second in Command, and he too held a spark-chamber. Starscream held nothing, but then again, he didn’t have to. The two seekers that framed him had energon splattered on their frames, but Megatron could tell from just a glance that it was because they’d been too close to whomever was doing the bleeding. Starscream, however…

If his two brothers were splattered in energon, Starscream was _drenched_ in it. The stuff was particularly heavy on his clawed hands, which were spread open in a gesture of peace and amused supplication. It was Starscream’s face that convinced him on who did the murdering though. While the purple seeker was smiling – most likely too simple to understand the very delicate line they were walking – and the blue one was visibly uneasy, Starscream smiled, all teeth and anger and deadly intent.

“So,” Starscream said, voice smug and challenging. “I heard you were in need of a _competent_ Air Commander and Second in Command.” He shrugged lightly, keeping his deadly claws in front of him, a dripping, silent reminder that while Megatron had known and experienced the pleasure they could bring, they were more than effective as a weapon and that the mech they were attached to was more than just a pleasure-bot. “I’ve come to fill in the openings.” There was a small pause. “If _my Lord_ will have me?”

He knew this was going to come back and bite him on the aft, but what else could he do? Thanks to Starscream he was down by both his Air Commander and Second, and he had no one to replace them with – one of the main reasons they had lasted this long to begin with. Starscream it was.

**Author's Note:**

> ...admit it, you thought this was going to be porn, didn't you?


End file.
